Wedding Vows
by Mistress Of The Macabre
Summary: Based off 28 days later. A young couple struggle against the disease, knowing that, despite what might happen, they have to stick together, no matter what the cost.   Contains extreme violence.


**Wedding Vows.**

"_To have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do us part." _

These were the words that she had hoped one day to speak to her boyfriend, had the world turned out normal, and not gone to pieces. Yes, in a normal world, where people walked the streets freely, without fear of becoming 'infected', she and Ethan would have been married as soon as they were out of school. But the world was not normal anymore.

As Ethan had so bluntly put it, the world had 'gone to hell.'

It was amazing how quickly things could go to hell. A month before, the world had been normal, and she and Ethan had been studying for their finals, Ethan raking in extra money so he could pay for the extravagant wedding that the two of them (well, alright, it was mainly _her _who wanted the perfect wedding, but he had agreed readily enough) desperately wanted. Twenty-eight days later (and she knew how long it had been, because her watch told her the date as well as the time), the world had literally gone to hell.

And that wasn't a damned thing anyone could do about it, because now, it was kill or be killed.

**XxX**

The disease that became known as the 'Rage Virus' came to be (at least in Bristol, anyway) at 3:15 p.m., eastern standard time, on the afternoon of October 31st. Oddly enough, the term was not a misnomer, but scientists wanting to put a more scientific spin on the Virus, within ten hours of the event, most were either dead or insane. The name hardly mattered, in any case.

What mattered was the effect.

At three o'clock that day, a young couple came walking- almost _bouncing_, one could say- east along Bridgewater road in Bristol. The man's name was Ethan Walker, and the expression on his face was one of undoubted contentment to go along with the spring in his step. His left hand swung gaily by his side, and his right was entwined with the smaller, more delicate fingers of his girlfriend, Laura Evans. Had anyone cared to look twice at the young couple, they would have noticed that their expression were eerily similar, a rare but almost cute combination of adoration and contentment.

In the girl's right hand was a small brown paper bag, with the words 'small treasures' printed on it for anyone to cared to read them. Inside the bag, swinging back and forth, was a thick, hugely expensive-looking book. A gift, you might have guessed, and you would have been right. Ethan Walker and Laura Evans were going to be married in little more than two months. You might have further guessed that the book was one filled with photographs of extravagant wedding gowns, and you would have been right again. Though it was tradition that the groom not see the final design of the dress, Laura was determined to make her wedding one to remember, and if it meant breaking tradition, well, to hell with it.

The young couple continued down the street, silent, yet comfortably silent with each other. Beside her husband-to-be, Laura envisioned herself in a gown that was eerily similar to her mothers', and although she often found her mother insufferable and ignorant, Laura had to admit that her mother had excellent taste in clothes. She could just imagine herself walking down the aisle in that magnificent dress, and people gasping at the beautiful, blushing bride…

Her attention was attracted by the tinkle of an ice-cream truck. It was parked across from someone's house, and the young couple. The words 'MISTER SORBET' were printed in rainbow colours over a pair of crossed icy poles- one pink, one blue. Three kids were clustered around the window, book bags at their feet, waiting to receive their treats. Behind them stood a severe-looking woman in a pants suit, and behind _her _stood a couple of teenagers in low-riding jeans with iPods that were murmuring quietly together- no giggles.

Ethan saw what had caught his girl's attention, and smiled indulgently. It had been a hard but rewarding day for the both of them- he may as well treat them both to an ice cream.

They stood behind the murmuring teenagers, turning what had been a little group into a short line. A man walking his dog observed the unusually serious couple, and smiled as he passed them. They smiled back.

While the guy in the truck served the three kids at the window- the big spender in the middle was apparently paying for all of them- the woman in the pants suit dipped her hand into her handbag, and brought out her cell phone, apparently checking the time.

Behind them all, a dog barked, and someone screamed.

It didn't sound to Ethan like it was a scream of delight, as you often heard at the high school, but when he looked over his shoulder, all he saw were a few strollers, and the man who had passed them earlier kneeling down to pat his dog.

When they turned back to the ice cream truck, the three kids were gone, and the woman in the pants suit was being served. The guy in the 'Mister Sorbet' truck bent down and held out a sundae cup. From it rose a white mountain with chocolate and strawberry sauce coursing down its side. The man's face was impassive, as he watched the woman hastily shove her phone back in her handbag.

Someone screamed.

Ethan looked over his shoulder again, telling himself that it had to have been a scream of joy. At three o'clock in the afternoon, a sunny afternoon in Bristol, it pretty much _had _to be a scream of joy.

Right?

The woman just stood there, as if she had forgotten what she was doing or maybe even where she was.

"That's four-fifty," the 'Mister Sorbet' guy said patiently, still holding the ice cream sundae. The woman stared for a moment more, looking to Ethan like she had just realized just how goddamn _expensive _it was.

There came another cry from behind them, not a human one this time, but something between a surprised yelp and a hurt yowl. Ethan turned to look and saw the man who had been walking his dog down the street. It was a good-sized dog, maybe a Labrador, with fur the colour of rich chocolate- or so he presumed, had blood not been coursing down its' body.

_My God, I can't believe what I'm seeing, _he had time to think, before Laura screamed. She was staring wide-eyed at the man and his dog, her normally pretty face white with horror. The man was down on his knees beside the dog, his skinny arms across the animal in what could only be a headlock, and he appeared to be chewing on its ear. The dog howled again and tried to jolt itself out of the man's arms. The man held the animal firm, and yes, that was the dog's ear in its mouth, and, as the young couple continued to watch, the man tore it off the side of the dog's head. This time the dog uttered an almost human scream, and hurled itself out of the death grip it had been in. The man did nothing to stop it, but merely knelt there, chewing on his prize. Ethan felt his stomach turn. Once the man was finished with his prize, he lurched to his feet, and stared at them, his expression one of utmost fury.

Laura backed away from the sight, though the man was a good distance away, her small, white hands clasped between her breasts, her eyes wide.

Perhaps it was that small movement that provoked him. Ethan didn't know. All he knew was that one moment, the man who had partially mutilated his dog was standing two hundred metres away, and the next, he bolted towards them. Ethan seized Laura's wrist, and tugged her out of the way.

As he approached, the two of them saw that the man's face was covered in blood- the dog's, mainly, but there was blood coming from other places, too- was it coming from his _eyes? _

They had no time to ponder the question, for he was upon the group now. Instead of seizing Ethan or Laura, the dog-eater grabbed instead one of the two teenagers, seizing her around the waist. Ethan and Laura could only watch as the man bared his teeth, stained with blood, and dug them into the girl's neck. The girl, shocked, began to scream, a long, high-pitched wail of terror and pain that seemed to last an eternity, but in reality probably only lasted a few seconds. There was a huge jet of blood, as the man's teeth sank into what was undoubtedly her jugular. He stuck his face in it, appeared to bathe in it, perhaps even drank from it, and then shook the girl back and forth like a doll. Her friend, letting out a scream of her own, fled the scene, narrowly avoiding being hit by a speeding truck. The woman in the pants suit slipped in the steadily-growing puddle of blood, and fell. 'Mister Sorbet' guy wasted no time in getting the hell out of there, speeding away.

As the man shook the poor girl, sending blood flying, he cocked his own blood-smeared face up to the bright October sky and howled in what sounded like triumph.

_He's gone mad, _Ethan thought. _Totally and completely insane._

Laura cried out, _"What's happening?" _

At the sound of her voice, the man flung the teenager's body aside, and started towards them, grinning crazily. The lower half of his face appeared to be nothing but blood, but Ethan could see his eyes, and they were red, bright red- the colour of utmost rage.

Laura screamed again, and the man was suddenly upon them. Thinking quickly, not even registering that was doing so, Ethan shoved his girlfriend behind him, temporarily shielding her from harm. The man lunged. Ethan ducked. The crazy man missed, but blood rained down upon Ethan, turning his white button-down shirt crimson. He cursed, and punched the man in the lower stomach, fast and hard. It had no effect. Ethan dimly realized that the man was not reaching for _him, _but rather, Laura. He screamed, and a stream of blood burst from his mouth, falling short of Laura but coating Ethan in it. He cursed again, and shoved his attacker away.

As he did so, he saw- only in his peripheral vision- that the girl whom the man with the dog had torn into was now getting up from the ground. _How was that even possible? _Ethan had seen her throat burst beneath the dog-eater's teeth, had seen the blood spurt, had seen the teeth gnaw through skin and sinew, and finally bone. It was impossible for someone to sustain an injury like that and _still be alive. _

Wasn't it?

But then he saw her face, saw that her eyes were red with fury as well, and he knew that it just wasn't the man that was crazy. _She _was crazy, too. The screams he had heard earlier were _real _screams.

He and his girlfriend were in serious trouble here.

"Run!" he shouted to her now, flinging an arm up and forcing her back. The blood that coated him was annoying. He longed to touch it, get it off of him, but obviously, that wasn't possible just now. He got shakily to his feet, and was attacked again, this time by two crazed humans. Someone screamed- whether it was him or Laura, he hadn't the faintest idea. He shoved the man back, who was surprisingly light, despite his size- into the girl who was trying to gnaw through his shirt. The two slipped and fell, letting out simultaneous screams of rage, the girl vomiting blood in Ethan's direction. It would have reached him, had he not moved.

Ethan stood there, shivering with shock. His instincts told him to move, and yet he could not do so. It was as if he were paralysed. His attackers scrambled to untangle themselves, slipping in blood, screeching. The girl's face, which had once been pretty, was coated in red, her braces revealed to be smashed to pieces when she screamed at him. Blood flowed freely from her ruined mouth, but she took no notice. Her focus was entirely on Ethan, who simply stood there, numb.

As he stared, the two crazies untangled themselves and got to their feet, their eyes glowing malevolently.

Suddenly, there was pressure on his arm, and he snapped out of whatever trance he had been in. "Ethan, we have to go!" That was Laura- hadn't he told her to run?

When he did not move, she pulled on his arm, harder this time. "Ethan, _goddammit! We have to move! NOW!" _She screamed, tugging him back several steps. Seeing this, the crazies began to snarl, baring their pinkish teeth.

His paralysis broke. He was running, running away, and Laura was running with him, and he could hear the crazies chasing after them, their screams a non-stop, high-pitched siren that threatened to burst their eardrums.

"That's right," Laura panted, surprisingly keeping pace with Ethan's frantic sprint, "That's good, Ethan. Come on, just a little further, we can lose them…"

And they did. They lost the crazies (barely, but they _did _lose them, all the same) when they found an electronics store with its windows smashed. Not caring if it was breaking and entering, they dove through one of the gaping windows, their clothes getting snagged on the few jagged bits of glass that still remained in the window pane. Hearing the all-too familiar snarling of their attackers, the two of them huddled underneath what had undoubtedly been a customer service desk, their arms around each other, waiting for the crazies- _zombies- _to disappear.

**XxX**

Their attackers never came for them. Oh, they were still out there- Ethan had no doubt about that, but they had apparently given up on their quarry, presumably in exchange for easier pickings. That, or they were waiting for them.

Laura shivered in the thin shirt she wore. It was dusk now, and in Bristol, the temperature dropped considerably once nightfall hit. Ethan himself was too repulsed by his own appearance to be concerned about being cold. The blood was in his hair, on his skin, and had stained his clothes. He felt dirty- _contaminated. _He wanted desperately to wash it off, but he knew better than to touch it, because he had seen what had happened to the girl with the braces. The blood that the dog-eater had projected at him, Ethan, that very same blood had entered that girl's bloodstream. And what had happened? She had risen from the dead, and joined her murderer in the attack. Ethan wasn't sure how it was possible, but that blood was dangerous.

Staring at his bloodstained fingertips, Ethan began to shake. Despite the cool air, he suddenly felt hot. Laura touched his arm, concern filling her pale but otherwise beautiful features. "J-_Jesus…" _he muttered. He turned to look at his fiancé. "D-did you see that? T-that girl…the dog…all that blood…"

Laura felt tears well in the corner of her eyes. Normally, it would be her freaking out, and Ethan would come to the rescue, soothing her with his gentle touch, his soft voice. Seeing him like this was yet more proof that the world had indeed gone to hell. Trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat, she squeezed his bicep gently, ignoring how the blood in his shirt squelched lightly. Remembering how the blood had gotten inside the girl with the pricey orthodontist work, she studied his face intently. The blood was in his hair, and trickling down the sides of his face, but there appeared to be no damage. She let out a sigh of relief. Until now, she hadn't known that her Ethan had escaped unscathed. When he'd been attacked, she couldn't tell if he was fighting them off, or if he was being torn apart.

"Ethan," she said timidly. He looked at her, his hands still shaking. She supposed that she should be reacting to what had just happened, but she was still numb- still unable to entirely recognize what exactly had _happened. _"Ethan. Listen to me. Everything is going to be alright."

"Alright," Ethan said, and laughed.

"It will be," Laura said seriously, not believing her own words, but speaking as though she did, "You'll see. Remember what's going to happen soon?"

"We're getting married," he said, sounding like he wanted to laugh- or cry.

"Yes. That's right. We're getting married. We even have our wedding vows planned out. Do you remember those?"

If he was confused by her way of thinking, he didn't show it. He told her the vows that they were both going to say (the simpler the wedding was, the more they would enjoy it, Laura thought), finishing with "Till death do us part." As he said those last few words, Laura came up with an idea.

"And we're going to stick through this, Ethan. You and me. Right?"

"Till death do us part," he said sombrely, and laughed again.

**XxX**

Laura awoke the next morning to discover that Ethan was gone. Panicking, that calm resolve she had had the previous night dissipating almost instantly, she leapt up from her hiding place, staring around wildly.

Her panic was short-lived, though.

Ethan was standing by the window, his face perfectly smooth. Whatever he had been going through last night, shock or whatever, he was out of it now. In his right hand he held a shard of broken glass- the only weapon the electronics store offered. Curious as to why he was so close to the outside world, where the crazies were, she approached him.

When she approached him, she half-expected him to leapt at her, snarling, and spewing blood from his mouth, his eyes crazed and furious.

In fact, her fear of that happening was so great that she actually _saw _Ethan standing there, in his bloodstained shirt, infected and insane with murderous rage. The blood had gotten into him, after all. She gasped and stepped backwards.

As she did so, he turned towards her, and she saw that his eyes were not crimson, but the icy blue they had always been, and she relaxed. "We're getting out of here," he informed her, returning his gaze to the street before him. It was as empty as before.

"Getting…out?" The words sounded odd on her tongue, and she didn't like it. "But, Ethan…_where?_ Where can we go?"

He shrugged. "We can't go to my place, obviously. It's too far away."

She realized what he meant. "So we're just going to break into someone's _house?_" She was horrified. The Ethan she knew would have never have made a suggestion like that.

"Well, if you've got any better ideas-" he started to say, but a long screech of fury cut him off. A woman lurched after a clearly terrified young man, who was wielding a crowbar in one hand. He looked not much older than Ethan and Laura, and, as the woman descended upon him, Ethan grabbed Laura and they flung themselves to the ground. Laura wished she could over her ears, as the woman caught up to the young man and began to maul him. She couldn't see what was happening, but what she heard told her more than enough. The man screamed for a total of five seconds, before being reduced to wet gargles of protest.

All was silent. All was still.

Laura whimpered. She could hear not one, but _two _bodies shuffling towards the broken electronics store, and she knew that the man was one of _them. _He'd been…_infected._

Ethan was on top of her, clutching his shard of glass so tightly that his knuckles were white. She knew what he intended to do- but would he be able to do it? There were _two _of them, after all, and two against one wasn't a fair fight.

Just as the woman began to reach through the shattered window, something caught the other man's eye. He made a low gurgling sound, and the sound of bare feet slapping the ground sounded. He was running away, probably chasing after some other poor soul who was not yet infected.

However, they weren't out of the clear just yet. There was still the other one. And she was getting closer.

Laura saw that Ethan had plucked his shard of glass from the bottom of the window, where many other dangerous slivers of glass still lay, and she also saw that the woman's body was dragging across these glass shards, tearing the patterned blouse she was wearing. The glass slid across the cloth…and finally into skin. Yet, despite being impaled on glass, the woman kept coming. Blood blossomed from her skin, and rank down the window. Laura, stuck beneath Ethan, squeaked with fear. She covered her mouth immediately afterwards, but by then it was too late. She'd heard. The infected woman looked down, saw the two humans lying on the floor, and her lips pulled back into what was unmistakably a snarl. She screeched.

It all happened very quickly then.

Ethan lunged upwards with the shard of glass at the exact moment when the woman expelled a tremendous amount of blood. Again, Ethan took the brunt of it, but Laura screamed when the warm liquid coated her legs and thighs. Ethan grunted, as his chest was coated once again in foul-smelling, infectious fluid. The woman saw the makeshift knife a moment too late. Ethan plunged the glass through her right eye, shoving it in with all the strength he had. To his horror and satisfaction, the glass slid through her eye easily, the eyeball bursting like a watermelon once the glass had punctured it, and now blood coated his hands, as he thrust it deep into the infected woman's skull, pushing it so far as to enter her brain, an act he hoped would cause her to die. He screamed in frustration when the glass caught on something- bone?- and she screamed with him, no longer vomiting blood on him, but trying to ensnare him with her wild grabs. He pushed deeper, and the glass slid across bone, and finally plunged into what could only be her brain. The woman gave a final wet gargle of fury, and was still.

**XxX**

They waited until dark to move from the area. Ethan reasoned that if they waited until dark, they would have the cover of darkness. Laura weakly replied that yes, that was true, but their attackers, the 'infected', would also have the darkness to hide in. She was still sobbing uncontrollably, her legs and thighs coated in the infectious blood. Ethan pulled her along the dark streets of Bristol, a new weapon clutched in his hands- the crowbar the young man had dropped when he'd been attacked. It wasn't nearly as good as, say, a gun, but Ethan supposed that those people still alive probably had possession of all the guns in Bristol. Still, he thought, if he could one of _them_ with a bit of glass, he sure as hell could kill one of them with a crowbar.

He liked to think that, anyway.

He was more than aware that he and Laura were lucky, and that they should have died long before this. Sheer, dumb luck had been the only factor that had tipped the scales in their favour, allowing them to live for as long as they had.

He wasn't sure what he intended to do now. All he knew was that he had to get Laura and himself out of Bristol- and possibly try and find a place where there were other people, people who were infected. That seemed like a solid enough plan.

As they approached a restaurant, one of those ones who sold only greasy, oily, and otherwise disgusting food, a man rushed towards them. Ethan braced himself, and held the crowbar ready, yet the infected man seemed not to see them. He ran past them, his open bloodstained flannelette shirt flapping bizarrely. Once she was sure he was out of earshot, Laura sighed. "At least we don't look that bad," she said.

"Not yet," Ethan replied.

They stopped by a rather run-down old house that lurked ominously on the side of the road. After peering anxiously into each of the rooms, Ethan proclaimed the house safe enough to stay in, if that was what Laura wanted. Laura shrugged and said she wasn't sure. Ethan, slightly annoyed, tugged her inside to search for food. Aside from layers upon layers of dust, there was no food or anything else useful to offer. They left.

Taking one of the back roads out of Bristol, the one that was wild and almost completely unknown, Ethan and Laura came across some carnage; apparently the infected had also came this way. Smears of blood, scraps of already-yellowing flesh, even the occasional limb littered the sides of the road. They kept to the middle, wrinkling their noses at the disgusting scent of decay that smothered them. And it had only been one day!

They walked on for some time, Ethan always taking the lead, holding his crowbar in front of him, as though he expected someone to leap out at any minute. Laura clung to him like a shadow, making little to no noise, stopping only once to vomit clumsily on the ground, the smell of rotting flesh having got to her at last.

It was eerily quiet- _too quiet, _Laura thought. Then suddenly, as if contradicting her, someone screamed. She stumbled, and would have fallen if Ethan hadn't caught her elbow. Someone squeezed off a shot. They must have been killed, because that was the only shot Ethan and Laura heard.

Nevertheless, they kept moving forward. Ethan came across some water- no more than a puddle, really, but it was better than nothing- and he took the opportunity to wash his face and hair, taking care not to let any of the blood get in his mouth or eyes. Whilst he was finishing up, squeezing the last of the infectious crimson from his hair, someone screamed again.

A girl.

_Laura._

Scrambling to his feet, Ethan snatched up the crowbar and hurried to where he had heard the noise. A hundred metres or so up the road, Laura was standing over something- a body?

Ethan came to a stop beside her, panting heavily. As far as he could tell, she was unharmed, but maybe she had gotten some blood inside of her-

"Look," Laura choked, pointing at the body. "My God, Ethan, _look." _

Ethan looked. And he realized why she had screamed. Lying spread-eagled in front of them, eyes staring blankly at the night sky, was Laura's mother, Edith. Though Laura had had some problems with her mother in recent times, he realized that seeing her now, cold and dead in the middle of a carnage-littered road, hurt her more than anything else imaginable. She was her mother, after all.

"Jesus Christ," Ethan said weakly. He moved to embrace her, but she stepped out of his grip. "Laura, baby, I'm so-"

Laura bent down to her mother's body, her face sparkling with tears. _"Laura, NO!" _he tried to scream, but he only got out _"Laura!" _before the body came alive beneath them, writhing and snarling with rage. She seized Laura's arm, and she lowered it to her mouth- a mouth, Ethan saw with horror, that was bubbling with dark, warm blood that had one purpose and one purpose only- to infect.

He swung at the woman with the crowbar, but he wasn't fast enough. Edith bit down into the flesh of her daughter's arm, infecting the girl Ethan loved.

With a scream of fury (he sounded eerily like the infected- had he been careless enough to let some blood get into his system, after all?), he began to bludgeon the woman to death with the crowbar. It didn't matter that she was Laura's mother, she was one of _them_, and because she was, she had to die. He kept striking her with the metal bar, obliterating what had once been a kind old face. Her skin came away easily with the metal bar, leaving nothing but a pair of equally furious eyes staring at him, and strands of sinew clinging desperately to her cheekbones. With one final cry of anguish and anger, he drove the bar through her head, causing it to crack like an eggshell. Her brains, those of which that had not been punctured by the metal bar, slid from the skull, to rest absurdly on the ground.

There was another scream. Ethan, breathing heavily through his nose, looked round. Laura was just standing there, staring at him with wide eyes- eyes that were rapidly becoming bloodshot, he saw. He tugged at the crowbar. With a sickening crack, it came free from the corpse's skull. She screamed again, and raised her hands to her face. She dug her fingernails into her flesh, and dragged down, screaming in agony. Tiny, thin streams of blood flowed from the scratches on her face. Her body convulsed wildly.

"No, no…" Ethan whispered through dry lips. Laura was dying. She couldn't be dying. What was it that she had promised him?

There were more screams. All around him (Ethan saw this only through his peripheral vision), there were more. Of _them. The Infected. _There were ten, twenty, God knew how many there were. But they were all coming for _him. _And Laura.

But Laura couldn't die, she _couldn't, _she had promised him-

What _had _she promised him?

"_We're going to stick through this, Ethan. You and me. Right?" _

"Till death do us part," he whispered through cracked lips, and laughed.


End file.
